Life In The Blood
by Pbjpizza
Summary: An alternate season 4 episode, Colin is bitten and transformed into a vampire. How will this affect his relationship with the other Sliders?


I was out taking a walk, unable to sleep. It was after one am.  
  
I couldn't help it. The Circadian rhythm of my body had changed. It was the total opposite of everyone else's. I usually felt most alive in the middle of the night. While they slept I quietly left the hotel.  
  
I headed towards the downtown area. I knew there would be people around the bars.  
  
I heard two sharp pops, one right after the other. It could have been a car backfiring. But feeling pulled toward them like a moth drawn to a flame, I followed the sounds. A blue sports vehicle pulled out of an alley, and turned onto the street. It sped away, with tires screeching loudly.  
  
I approached the mouth of the alley. The far end opened on the backside of the buildings around it. The alley was very black but my night vision was very good. I could make out a figure lying on the filthy ground.  
  
The guy was still alive. I guessed he'd been shot because of a drug deal gone bad or something. He stared up at me, making gurgling noises in his throat. His body began to convulse, going into shock. He wouldn't last much longer.  
  
I could get what I wanted right now. I no longer thought about whether I should go for help. My rational mind abandoned me. I was consumed by something else. I knelt down and tore his shirt open, exposing the wet bullet wounds, and pressed my lips to them.  
  
I sucked and lapped and licked, trying to ingest as much blood as possible. It was electric in my mouth, and tasted slightly sulphuric from the gunpowder residue.  
  
I was so engrossed with feeding that I failed to properly calculate how close the wailing sirens were getting. Someone else had heard the shots and called the police. Just before the first car pulled up on the street, I tore myself away from the victim and hurried out the back of the alley.  
  
That end opened onto a vacant lot. As I crossed it I could hear running footsteps, and angry yelling for me to stop. There was a fence enclosing the back yard of an apartment building. I went over it lightly, then over another, and kept going. Feeding had given me new energy and I felt high, as though I could fly like a bird.  
  
The shouts grew more and more distant and I guessed that I was losing my pursuers.  
  
I finally stopped, hunkering down to rest in the dark under the landing of an employee staircase behind a store. I didn't know how many blocks I'd run, or where I now was. I peered out. I could see a few cars, most likely belonging to night workers in the store, a large dumpster, a pile of wooden pallets, and trash collected against another fence lining the edge of the back parking lot.  
  
After a little while I decided it was probably safe to come out. I straightened up and stretched my cramped muscles. I licked my lips and wiped at them with my sleeve, there was blood dried on my mouth.  
  
I walked over to a house and checked along the side of it. There was an outside faucet with a garden hose attached. I turned the water on and picked up the end of the hose to wash my face.  
  
Something small struck me in the back, hard. It felt like a needle. A wave of dizziness washed over me. I dropped the hose. Then, everything faded into nothingness.  
  
I opened my eyes.  
  
I was in a cage, maybe a large dog kennel, I didn't know what it was. The bars looked pretty strong, and the cage appeared to be a permanent fixture, with a cement floor.  
  
Still feeling dizzy, I sat up and glanced around. It was sort of dark in here; the interior of an unlit work shed in the daytime usually was.  
  
I could see a compass bow mounted on a wall across from the cage, and something like a quiver which might have held arrows.  
  
"Hey, is anyone there?" I yelled.  
  
I listened; there were no sounds except for a distant dog barking.  
  
"Can anyone hear me?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
Later I heard a car pull up and doors slammed.  
  
"Hey," I shouted. "Who's out there?"  
  
Now I could hear numerous footsteps crunching across rock fill. The door to the building slid open with a grating sound. The sunlight was very bright; I had to shield my eyes from it. There was the silhouette of a man standing there. I could make out several more figures a few feet behind him.  
  
"Who are you?" I demanded. "Why am I in here?"  
  
"Peter Van Helsing." The silhouette answered. The voice sounded young. He was barely more than a teenager. "Bounty hunter. Around here we always lock up rabid animals before we destroy them."  
  
The door slid closed and I was bathed in darkness again.  
  
"Hey," I yelled again but he didn't return.  
  
What did he mean by that? Was the guy crazy?  
  
Hours went by. The light outside deepened into night and no one came to bring me any food or water. I was hungry and thirsty. I took a nickel out of my pocket and put it in my mouth to suck on it. That helped a little.  
  
I tried to pull the bars of the cage apart and they actually bent a little but I wasn't quite strong enough to succeed. The cage was solid enough to hold a Kodiak bear.  
  
I lay down on the floor of the cage and tried to relax. How had I wound up here?  
  
It all started when Quinn, Remmy, Maggie and I landed on the last world. I thought of it as Gothic World, because everything was dull and dark, the women wore long black dresses and quite a few of the shops sold natural herbs and powders for holistic treatment rather than chemical drugs and medicines.  
  
The night we arrived, we were relaxing in a bar in Tecate, California, just north of the Mexican border. A very pretty Hispanic girl with long black hair, sat down next to me. I noticed Quinn was already ogling her. Not tonight, brother, I thought. She spoke fluent English, and seemed very friendly. We started chatting.  
  
I decided to buy her a drink, and signaled the bartender.  
  
"Gracias," She said. "My name's Josephina."  
  
"Colin," I introduced myself, then asked, "Were you born in the United States?"  
  
"No. I'm from Zihuatanejo," She picked up her drink. "Some of my family still lives there."  
  
I'd never heard of that place. I figured it was somewhere in Mexico, of course.  
  
"Where are you from?"  
  
"El Segundo." I told her, which was the truth.  
  
"What are you doing down here?" Josephina asked. "Are you planning to visit Old Tecate?"  
  
I knew what she meant. Half of the town we were in lay in the United States, the other half in Mexico. There were many historical buildings, and both sides made a lot of money from the tourism trade.  
  
"Maybe," I said.  
  
"If you do, you have to go to La Cazuela," She declared. "It's a restaurant, but the waiters entertain the customers with juggling and acrobatics. You'll enjoy it."  
  
"That does sound interesting," I agreed.  
  
"Go early," She added. "The streets over there are not safe after dark."  
  
"Why, are there gangs around there?"  
  
"That, and other things." I figured she was probably talking about animals scavenging for food or something.  
  
We talked for a while longer, then Josephina told me she had to go home, or her husband would come looking for her.  
  
I shot a sheepish glance at Quinn. He was no longer paying any attention, nodding off over his beer.  
  
The next evening we took her advice and rode a bus to La Cazuela, which was on the Mexican side. Most of the dining was outside. The chefs tossed whole cooked chickens and steaks to the waiters who were riding unicycles and expertly catching the food on platters, and juggled our plates along with flaming sticks as they served our table. We had a great time.  
  
"I'm glad we checked the place out," I told Quinn. "I've never seen anything like it. I still can't believe no one dropped any of the food."  
  
"Yeah, they were really good. They probably spend all their spare time practicing." He said.  
  
By now it was dark outside, and not very well lit by the bus stop. The human traffic died away quickly, and the street became quiet. Noticing that, I looked around, but didn't really think anything of it. After all, there were four of us, and safety existed in numbers. And everyone, including Maggie, knew how to use his or her fists.  
  
"It's creepy out here," She complained. "Where'd everyone go?"  
  
"Who knows," I said.  
  
We continued waiting. Remmy started whistling a small tune.  
  
Shadows silently stole around us, from the buildings, the trees, from behind parked cars. When I suddenly noticed them it was already too late. A powerful blow sent me sprawling into the gutter. I had time to roll over, but that was all.  
  
I found myself staring closely into the face of a young Mexican woman. But the very first thing I noticed was, her eyes were bright red. Unnaturally red. They seemed to swallow me up. Her breath smelled horrible. Then her mouth opened, and I saw fangs.  
  
I tried to push her off but couldn't. She came at me like a pitbull. And somehow, she was much stronger than I was. As we wrestled I attempted to shield myself from those teeth coming at me. They sank through the fabric of my sleeve and into my flesh. I pounded at her head with my other fist. Again and again.  
  
She hung onto my arm, finally letting go when I sank a thumb into her right eye. Screaming, the woman stumbled back. I kicked at her, using the heel of my boot to shatter her right knee. She went down.  
  
I noticed Maggie was a little winded but doing all right. From the Marines she'd learned plenty of hand-to-hand combat strategies and had some martial arts training. She had the advantage here, turning the weight and momentum of our assailants, around on them.  
  
Another woman flung herself at me. My foot struck her chest, hard. She tumbled backward and didn't come back up. My guess was the impact had probably stopped her heart.  
  
I was the only one of our group who sustained an injury, minor as it was. It was no worse than an animal bite. I washed it out with soap and water and Quinn applied a bandage. I was more upset that my shirt had been ruined. I had just bought it the day before. I really liked that shirt.  
  
And now I was here.  
  
I began to doze off a little. A noise woke me up, and I heard the car's engine start up. I kicked at the bars, trying to make as much noise as possible. "Let me out of here," I shouted.  
  
The car drove away.  
  
A little later, more footsteps on the rock driveway.  
  
"Who's out there?" I yelled.  
  
"Colin?" A familiar voice shouted back. It was Quinn.  
  
"Get me out of here," I bellowed.  
  
"Hold on."  
  
There was a short silence.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"The door's locked. Hang on. I'm working on it."  
  
A few moments later the shed door creaked open. I'll say one thing for my brother, he'd learned the art of picking locks pretty well.  
  
Before very long I was out of the cage too. I looked around. We were standing near a church building. The architecture was very ornate. I could read some of the engraved writing in a cement archway over the front steps. Two words, 'Templar' and 'Obscura'.  
  
"Colin, are you okay?" Maggie exclaimed.  
  
"I guess so," I was beginning to feel the effects of many hours without any kind of sustenance. "I could really use something to eat and drink."  
  
"Come on, let's get you out of here."  
  
Twenty minutes or so later we were sitting in a cafe and I was digging my way through my third basket of fiery hot wings and knocking back a cold draft. I had never tasted anything so good. A growing pile of used napkins sat next to my supper.  
  
"Glad to see you're enjoying them," Remmy kidded me.  
  
"Oh...sorry." I hadn't realized I was making so much noise.  
  
They laughed, my brother loudest of all.  
  
"No problem, bro." He clapped me on the back.  
  
I belched, and covered my mouth. I apologized again. "By the way, how'd you find me?"  
  
"It wasn't easy. I think we walked about twenty miles and I know I yelled for you until my throat was going raw." Quinn told me. "We were just about to give up."  
  
"The police told us we couldn't file a missing persons' report on you until tomorrow morning." Remmy said.  
  
"So, what's been going on?" I asked.  
  
"Well, besides looking for you, Remmy's going to be in a talent show on Friday night." Maggie told me.  
  
"Really," I looked at Rembrandt. I had heard him sing once. He was fantastic. "That's great. You'll be a shoo-in."  
  
"Man, I hope so." Remmy grinned.  
  
"First prize is five thousand dollars." Quinn said. "Chump change. It's just a local thing. Still, it'll keep us in beer."  
  
Then I saw he was kidding me. I threw my head back and laughed.  
  
He smiled. "It's good to have you back, Colin."  
  
"It's good to be back." I said. "Sleeping in an animal kennel is way overrated."  
  
He grew serious. "Tell me what happened."  
  
"Well," I wiped my mouth. "All I really know is, the police think I attacked someone, but I swear I didn't. I got away, but someone else was following and shot me with a tranquilizer...or something. The next thing I remember, I woke up in that cage."  
  
"Could it have been something your double did?" Maggie asked.  
  
"Uh, no," I answered. "It's kind of complicated. It's me they were after. The other thing is, when I woke up, my kidnapper came back. He said his name was Peter Van Helsing."  
  
"Van Helsing?" Quinn looked puzzled.  
  
"Yes. Does that mean something to you?"  
  
"Well, sort of. Have you ever read Bram Stoker's book 'Dracula'?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"I haven't either, but I've seen the movie that was based on it. Maybe it's just a coincidence, but that was the name of one of the characters."  
  
"I can't see where this is leading us." I said impatiently.  
  
"Never mind. Are you almost done?"  
  
"I guess." But I didn't feel quite satiated enough somehow. I drained my beer mug, and we got up and left.  
  
On the way back to the motel, my stomach began to churn. I started feeling sick. After a few minutes of that I stumbled behind and lost my supper into the flower bed of a bank.  
  
Quinn came running back to me, the others right behind him. "Hey, are you okay?"  
  
"I don't think so." I gasped.  
  
Nausea overtook me and I vomited again.  
  
"Colin...,"  
  
"Leave me alone," I yelled, still doubled over. I was already horribly embarrassed over being sick in public.  
  
"No way. There's something wrong with...,"  
  
Why wouldn't he quit? Hot anger flooded through me. What I did next was pure reflex. I lunged at Quinn. I grabbed his shirt and lifted him off his feet. His body felt lighter than I expected. He stared down at me with an expression of disbelief and terror on his face.  
  
For an instant I was about to hurl my brother away from me like a sack of potatoes.  
  
Suddenly realizing what I was doing, I let go. He landed unsteadily on his feet.  
  
I stumbled away. I had to put some distance between myself and them. Otherwise someone was going to get hurt. I still had some rational mind left.  
  
"Colin," He shouted.  
  
"Stay away from me," I yelled.  
  
I broke into a run. They didn't come after me.  
  
Several blocks later and out of breath, I slowed to a walk. I found a small park area, and sat down on a bench to rest.  
  
It was quiet out here, and peaceful. The wind picked up a bit and I watched a paper cup skitter across the grass. On the far side of the street which ran by the park, a lone figure walked briskly past without looking my way. He seemed to be in a hurry.  
  
I felt a strong impulse to follow him. My head was full of thoughts of violence as I stared at him. Like a primordial instinct to run down my prey and overcome it.  
  
I got up off the bench and went after the lone pedestrian.  
  
He turned the corner and kept going. Because he had on dark clothing, he tended to melt into the shadows. But I could still see his moving form.  
  
Before I could reach him, he went up a side staircase which led to an upper floor apartment. Never once did he glance at me, although by now I was certain he knew I was there. The door closed and I heard the faint click of a deadbolt lock engaging.  
  
Frustrated, I stood there wondering what to do next.  
  
I didn't feel like going back to the motel and explaining my actions to Quinn. I'd let things blow over for a bit, first.  
  
I retraced my steps to the park bench and sat for a while longer.  
  
Bored, I resumed my walk.  
  
There was a gas station located at the intersection of Solano and Crescent Heights. This area looked kind of run down. I could see a porn shop and a laundromat, a locksmith's, more apartment buildings and a place which sold awards and trophies.  
  
I went into the station restroom and splashed water on my face. Straightening up to dry it, I glanced at my reflection in the spotted mirror.  
  
I grinned, and studied the two canine teeth which I thought hadn't been quite that long before. They looked almost like the fangs of a dog.  
  
Idiot, I told the mirror, it has to be just your imagination working overtime. You're seeing things. Cut it out.  
  
It wasn't really a chilly evening but I felt strangely cold and shivered, hugging myself to keep warm. Not for the first time I wished I had a jacket.  
  
I kept walking, for how long I have no idea.  
  
And I was getting really tired.  
  
It was hard to keep from dragging my feet, to the point in which I was stumbling over the pavement.  
  
I wondered whether I was getting sick or something. You never knew what to expect while sliding from world to world. It wasn't the bite wound. No infection there. It was healing cleanly and well.  
  
About half a block up, I could see the front entrance of a small restaurant or tavern. I needed a drink to warm me up, and a short rest.  
  
I didn't want to think about walking all the way back to the motel. There were cars on this world, so I was reasonably sure they would have some sort of taxi service I could call.  
  
The place was air conditioned in spite of the mild night, probably to keep the atmosphere from becoming stuffy. Steam misted the large front window, coming from an open food preparation area at the back where a basket of of battered food was frying in hot oil. The bar had a close feel to it that I supposed would quickly become stifling unless they kept it on to control the humidity.  
  
There were one or two other customers sitting at the bar, and they turned to look at me as I came in. A young man about my age, was standing behind the draft spigots. He glanced up from cleaning the fixtures.  
  
He put down his cloth and moved over to where I had slid rather unsteadily onto a stool. "Hi. Can I get you something?"  
  
"Something strong. Do you have any whiskey?"  
  
For some reason I couldn't stop staring at the soft flesh of the bartender's neck. It looked so vulnerable all of a sudden. Young, tender skin lightly tanned from the sun, and I felt inexplicably drawn to it.  
  
I found myself entertaining the idea of tearing at it. With some effort I jerked my gaze away.  
  
"Whiskey?" The young man paused. "I'm sorry, we don't carry that spirit here. I've never heard of it."  
  
"Just anything strong. Make it a double."  
  
I shot a glance across at the other patrons. One, an older man, grunted heavily as he got up off his bar stool and shuffled toward a sign which indicated where the rest room was. The second customer was a woman of about thirty or so, with layered blonde hair, heavy makeup, and a cigarette in one hand. She was watching me.  
  
"Here you are, dude." The young bartender set a glass in front of me.  
  
He stood there expectantly as I picked up the beverage and took a cautious sip. Whatever the drink was, it was sweet, and strong all right. I sipped it again. After a few moments a rosy warmth began to spread through my body. I closed my eyes to savor the feeling.  
  
"...excuse me."  
  
"Huh?" I blinked up at the bartender.  
  
"That'll be four-fifty for your drink."  
  
"...oh. Sorry." I fumbled for my wallet and then handed the young man a single bill.  
  
Inside my wallet was a fat mix of currency from the last four or five worlds we'd been to. "Uh...will this cover it?"  
  
The bartender looked at the paper money and then back at me. "No...I need four-fifty. Four dollars and fifty cents. This is a just a one-dollar bill."  
  
"Oh. Sorry." I tried to focus on the contents of my wallet but failed.  
  
In spite of the warmth from the liquor I was losing it. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it wasn't. I didn't know. I was starting to sweat and my heart was racing. The tender flesh pulled at me. I swallowed saliva and put out one foot to keep my balance on the bar stool.  
  
Giving up, I thrust my wallet at the bartender. "Go ahead and take what you need, okay?"  
  
"Are you all right?" The young man peered at me.  
  
"...I don't think so."  
  
"Man, you don't look so well. Why don't you just take a seat over there...," He indicated one of the small booths lining the opposite wall. "...before you fall off that chair. I'll bring your drink over to you."  
  
"...yeah. Thanks." It took a moment for the bartender's offer to sink in.  
  
He carried the glass over as I stumbled and groped my way to the booth. The cushion sighed as I dropped onto it. Yes, this was better. I hadn't been sure I could make it even that far. The room felt like it was starting to spin.  
  
What the hell was wrong with me? I licked my lips and downed another swallow of the drink. I was cold and sweating at the same time. Still thirsty. Shaking now. Weak.  
  
"Would you like me to call someone for you?" The bartender's voice seemed to be growing farther away.  
  
Quinn. Was he even on this world with me? I was finding it harder and harder to think straight.  
  
I closed my eyes and allowed my head to sink onto the table. The linoleum surface felt cold under my cheek. A growing, hurting knot in my chest made it hard to get enough air.  
  
"Do you want me to call someone?" The young man persisted.  
  
"...my brother," I murmured. "...my chest hurts....don't know if you can find him. He was...,"  
  
"Dude, I'm going to call for help. You just stay right here. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
I barely heard him. Even with my eyes closed everything seemed to be advancing and receding at the same time. The pain tightened in my chest.  
  
A woman's voice, distant and unintelligible.  
  
I became vaguely aware of activity around me, and something covering my nose and mouth. There were lights, very bright ones. At least I could breathe now.  
  
I tried to open my eyes but they were very heavy and it was much easier not to make any effort at all.  
  
I drifted back into sleep.  
  
When I woke again, I learned from a nurse that I had been brought into the ICU suffering from severe anemia and shock. Since I couldn't tell them who I was, I became patient John Doe 127. They treated me with a full blood transfusion, but when I was removed from the Cellsaver, my system began to collapse again. The doctors had managed to keep me stabilized after that, but just so.  
  
I was lying in bed with my eyes closed while soft, canned laughter emanated from the droning television set.  
  
A nurse had brought me a meal tray, and I had eaten some applesauce, but didn't feel up to more than that. It was sitting on a table nearby.  
  
I heard footsteps, and opened my eyes.  
  
"Hey guys," I said weakly.  
  
"Man, you really had us worried." Remmy scolded me.  
  
"Colin, we spent the whole morning looking for you again." Maggie said. Her tone was slightly accusatory.  
  
"Sorry." I closed his eyes and then opened them again. I needed to rest, but I also wanted to talk to Quinn.  
  
"Colin, what happened?" My brother asked.  
  
"I don't know." I shook my head slightly. "I went into this bar...I was feeling cold and I thought a drink would help warm me up. I was talking to the bartender a little...I think...but I can't remember anything else."  
  
"Well, I talked to the doctor." Quinn told me. "He thinks you've contracted some kind of a virus. They ordered a serum that could help get you back on your feet. But it probably won't be in until at least tonight or tomorrow because it has to be flown in from Texas.  
  
"The doctor explained that it appears to be in the same family as AIDS, but it isn't that. Instead of attacking your immune system, it went after the red blood cells. They haven't been able to keep your blood count up to where it should be."  
  
I'd heard of AIDS. Quinn had told me about it at some point in the past. It was somewhat rampant on the world he'd grown up on. He said it was a terminal disease, but not as communicable as the flu.  
  
"That's probably a first," I said.  
  
I looked up at the bag of blood hanging on the equipment cart next to the bed.  
  
"Did he say whether he thinks the serum will cure the virus?" I asked.  
  
"No. But he thinks it'll help your system reproduce the red blood cells at a much faster rate."  
  
That made me wonder how this would affect sliding with my brother. I was going to become dependent on a drug which I knew wouldn't be available on every world. What if I ran out and couldn't get more?  
  
I was feeling slightly better a little while later, so the nurse helped me into pajamas and a robe and I sat up in a chair while she brought me a Crown Top soft drink and changed the bed linens.  
  
She was young and pretty and black and her name was Janisha. She was chatty and cheerful, and I found myself enjoying her company.  
  
I thought to myself that I should introduce her to Rembrandt, if he showed up while she was on duty.  
  
I asked her how long she'd been working for the hospital.  
  
"Two years." She tucked the sheet under one corner of the mattress. "Are you from around here?"  
  
"No," I took a sip of my soda. "Just passing through."  
  
"Vacation?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"What is it you do for a living?"  
  
"Uh...I'm kind of unemployed right now."  
  
"Oh, that's too bad. But I'm sure you'll find something soon."  
  
"Tell me about yourself," I said.  
  
Of course there was only so much she would tell me. I figured that a place like this would have a privacy policy.  
  
"Well, I have two sisters and four brothers. I'm the second to the oldest."  
  
"That's a pretty big family."  
  
But on my foster world I had heard of much larger ones. In a farming community without modern medicine it was the only way to supply cheap and reliable labor. That sounded callous but it was also the plain and simple truth. It was how things were.  
  
"You should see our family reunions at Thanksgiving," She chuckled. "Last year we had to rent a banquet hall."  
  
That made me laugh. Janisha was glad to see me smiling. "Laughter is always the best medicine." She said.  
  
"I can see what you mean." I agreed.  
  
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"  
  
"Just one brother," I answered. "He'll be here later."  
  
"How are you doing? Would you like to lie down now?"  
  
"Not just yet," I replied. "I'm okay, thanks."  
  
"Well you let me know," She unclipped the call device from the bed rail and handed it to me. "Please don't try to get up without help, all right? We can't have you falling and hurting yourself. All you have to do is hit that button."  
  
"Okay." I said.  
  
I stayed up for a little while, just watching other patients and staff walk back and forth past the door. There wasn't anything interesting on TV.  
  
I wondered whether the police would show up looking for me. They didn't.  
  
A bouquet of flowers arrived, brought in by a young girl in a red and white striped dress. I opened the small envelope she gave me.  
  
They weren't from Quinn and Remmy and Maggie as I expected, but from a generous local charity group whose focus it was to cheer up very sick patients just coming out of intensive care.  
  
I wondered how they had gotten wind of my presence in there.  
  
Quinn and Maggie came back just before supper, carrying more flowers. I was back in bed by then.  
  
My brother paused when he saw the first bouquet. "Who are those from?"  
  
"A group called A Basket In Hand," I said. "I guess it's a local charity organization."  
  
"That was nice of them." Maggie said.  
  
"Yes, it was," I said. "Where's Remmy?"  
  
"He wanted to spend some time rehearsing." Quinn put the flowers down on a table across the room.  
  
"Thanks for the flowers, guys."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
My dinner tray arrived. I picked up the lid and looked at it. There was a pile of long noodles with a red sauce on them, vegetables, and a piece of bread with butter.  
  
"Do you know what this is?" I asked Quinn.  
  
"It looks like spaghetti."  
  
"Spaghetti?"  
  
"It's an Italian dish," He said. "My mom used to make it all the time."  
  
I looked at it again, wondering how I was going to eat it gracefully.  
  
"Go ahead and try it," Quinn encouraged me. "It's good. I think you'll like it."  
  
So I did. I wound up with sauce splattered all over my shirt. Quinn was right, it was good, but I was secretly a little mortified over the mess the food made, and told myself I would never order this in a public restaurant.  
  
"This is like shutting the barn door after the horse gets out." I said. It had finally occurred to me to tuck a napkin under my chin.  
  
They laughed. Maggie then excused herself to go find a restroom.  
  
While she was gone, Quinn asked me about when I attacked him the other night.  
  
"I don't know what you mean." I said.  
  
He hesitated before answering. "Well, when you grabbed me and picked me up...the weirdest thing happened."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your eyes were glowing bright red."  
  
A memory of the crazy Mexican woman's face flashed into my head. She'd infected me with this sickness I had, and God only knew what it was. It was turning me into an animal, a bloodlusting cannibal. I had no idea what to expect from this. My physiology was not likely to be affected the same way as humans' on other worlds. Anything could happen. For the first time I felt cold fear creep into me.  
  
"I'm not kidding," Quinn insisted. "They really were red."  
  
"I believe you."  
  
"Colin, what the hell's going on?"  
  
"I can guess," I told him. "Quinn, do you remember when those crazy people attacked us down in Mexico?"  
  
"Yeah," I watched as realization dawned on him. His mouth dropped open. He took a step or two back from me.  
  
"Bingo."  
  
"Oh, my God," Quinn groaned. "You're one of the undead. That one bit you, and turned you into a vampire, too."  
  
"I don't feel undead." I said uneasily. I didn't like the tone of his voice. "Is that what those people were?"  
  
"We ran into vampires before we lost Wade," He wasn't listening to me now, pacing back and forth. He stopped abruptly and sat down in a chair, burying his face in his hands.  
  
"Brother, listen to me. Look where I am. I was examined by a number of doctors. Logically, if I were undead, don't you think I'd be on a dissecting table in a science lab right now instead of here?"  
  
"Yeah," He uncovered his face. All of a sudden, Quinn looked older, and tired. "Yeah. You're right." His eyes flickered at me, and away. "Colin, I'm worried that someone could get hurt. This is serious."  
  
"I know," I replied. "I'm sorry about the other night. I guess I'm going to have to learn to control myself better. But it's not going to be easy."  
  
"You will," He told me. "You're still my brother, and I care a lot about you, but...I'm not about to let you hurt Maggie or Remmy. Or any other innocent people. I don't have a choice here, Colin. I'll do whatever I have to do."  
  
I understood what he meant. This was an ultimatum. It was the first and only warning I would ever get. Resignedly I said, "Okay. I don't blame you."  
  
He came over and sat next to me, drawing me into a bear hug. I returned the embrace.  
  
"Just remember, I'm really on your side." I told him. As he stood up, I added, "Who's Van Helsing?"  
  
"How would I know? Some kook."  
  
"I mean, the one in the book you mentioned."  
  
"Oh. He's a vampire hunter." Quinn paused, then said, "The other Van Helsing is probably just a wannabe who read it and thinks he inherited the title of monster killer. Maybe Van Helsing's not even his real name."  
  
"Wannabe or whatever, he's dangerous." I said. "He told me he was a bounty hunter."  
  
"Yeah," Quinn acquiesced. "Colin, I think we need to let Maggie and Remmy in on this."  
  
"Yes." I agreed. "But not yet. I'd like to be the one to do it."  
  
"Okay. You got it, bro."  
  
They left around seven o'clock. Not long after that the night nurse informed me that my medicine had arrived.  
  
They administered it through the intravenous at first. Before I went to sleep later on, the nurse removed the hemostat bag. She told me it would take a little experimenting with the dosage amounts to get the results they wanted.  
  
I was feeling better and stronger the next day, and the doctor felt it was safe to discharge me in the afternoon.  
  
I got shaved and dressed and while I waited for Quinn to pick me up, the nurse showed me how to administer the serum to myself.  
  
She gave me a reusable syringe and instructed me on how to siphon the serum from a little glass bottle, measure out what I needed, and where to inject it. I would have to do this every night, or more often if I felt I needed it.  
  
Janisha informed me that my medicine was a very new one, still being developed to treat patients with advanced Leukemia.  
  
That was another disease I'd never heard of. I decided to ask Quinn about it later.  
  
I read the label on the bottle. The serum was called Dzychliyonide.  
  
I steeled myself, expecting the needle to hurt. To my surprise, it didn't. Not really. She told me to be sure to clean the syringe once a week.  
  
She also gave me the address of a medical suppliers' where I could order a metal bracelet to wear which would tell doctors which drug I needed, in case I was unconscious and couldn't do it myself.  
  
I asked her how I was going to refill the medication since it had been sent all the way from Texas.  
  
"That bottle should last you from six to eight weeks," Janisha said, "Depending on how often you dose yourself. Your discharge packet will include the phone number of the pharmaceutical company that's developing it. All you have to do is call that number about ten days before you run out, read the information on the label to them, and they'll ship it right to you."  
  
"They don't have to approve their drugs through the FDA first?"  
  
Janisha looked at me curiously. "FDA? What's that?"  
  
"Never mind," I said. That was stupid of me.  
  
If they had an FDA here I would have eventually wound up dead instead of being discharged. The only other treatment for me was to remain perpetually attached to a Cellsaver for the rest of my life. It wasn't feasible. And the serum would have stayed unavailable, tied up in bureaucratic red tape for probably another ten years.  
  
Yes, I was thankful they didn't have an FDA. I couldn't and would not go around just taking other lives in order to get it. I was still had to answer to all the same laws on all the worlds, same as anyone else.  
  
I felt that the option of buying animal blood from a butcher was a pretty repulsive one. But, if you need the vitamins from vegetables, as an example, then you will crave them. This was no different.  
  
She jotted down a number from my chart, and handed the paper to me. "Don't lose this. Keep a copy of this handy in your wallet until you receive your bracelet. Give them this reference number when you call to order the dzychliyonide. As long as you do that it shouldn't cost you a cent."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"Because you didn't have any evidence of insurance when you came in here," She answered, "Patient registration automatically signed you up to be covered under a federally funded indigent medical program."  
  
Janisha added, "Oh, and when you order your bracelet, make sure that number gets engraved on it as well, so in case you do happen to be in an accident and don't still have the written number for some reason, you won't get charged for the dzychliyonide and then have to wait for reimbursement."  
  
I nodded, folded the note and tucked it safely into an inner pocket of my wallet.  
  
The medicine was helping to keep my system balanced at a normal level, so I wasn't being consumed by the cravings for blood, at least, not right now. But it had not cured me, it was only a quick fix, a long shot which luckily worked, and the doctor admitted he knew next to nothing about my disease.  
  
An orderly took me in a wheelchair to wait outside for a taxicab. I had my discharge packet, flowers on my lap, syringe and medicine in my pocket. Quinn accompanied us, carrying the other bouquet.  
  
The cab arrived, and we got in. The orderly took the wheelchair back inside.  
  
"You doing okay, bro?"  
  
"Yeah." I said.  
  
We went to the medical suppliers', and then back to the motel. I was getting tired. We pretty much stayed in the rest of the day and that night, although Remmy and Maggie walked up the road to pick up a pizza and sodas for us; none of the food shops in the area appeared to have any delivery service.  
  
The next evening, Friday, we all went over to the concert hall. We arrived an hour before the show began. Remmy had been asked to come early because there were a lot of contestants, the dressing rooms would be crowded and everyone would have to take turns using them.  
  
Rembrandt had on a light blue tuxedo. He wasn't all that happy about it, either. Apparently the costume pickings had gotten rather slim by the time he got his turn in the dressing room.  
  
I thought he looked pretty good in it, but what did I know? I came from a world where everyone always dressed like they were going to a funeral.  
  
"Never mind," I told him. "You'll knock them dead."  
  
"Sure you will." Maggie agreed.  
  
There was another singer currently onstage, a young Hispanic woman. She was also very talented. The audience loved her. I could see Remmy starting to sweat a little over that.  
  
"Go get 'em, Crying Man." My brother encouraged him.  
  
Remmy put on a great performance that night with his single song, in spite of the fact that it had been two years, I think anyway, since he was last in front of an audience. He returned backstage fairly glowing. This was really his medium.  
  
He came away with second prize, which was twenty-five hundred dollars, and his photograph was taken for one of the local papers.  
  
He wasn't as disappointed as I expected him to be. More philosophical about it than anything else. "Well, I guess you can't win 'em all. And who knows, a lot of artists get a second chance. Someday on one of these worlds, I might still get myself another thirty minutes of fame."  
  
"Of course you will." I told him. "I heard you sing. There isn't anyone better."  
  
"Maybe the contest was fixed." Maggie suggested.  
  
We talked about that possibility for a few minutes, then Rembrandt changed and we went out to celebrate. Anyhow, we were now a little bit richer and so we sprung for lobster tails and champagne at a very expensive supper club out on the bay.  
  
"To the Crying Man," Quinn raised his glass. "Number one as far as I'm concerned. You did a hell of a job putting the bread and butter on our table tonight."  
  
"Here, here." I said.  
  
"Aw...guys." Remmy grinned. Maggie kissed his cheek.  
  
As we waited for our plates I told them, "I wish I didn't have to do this, but there's something I should tell you."  
  
"What?" Maggie asked.  
  
"I'm a vampire."  
  
She and Rembrandt broke up laughing. "That's great, man." Remmy said.  
  
"No. I'm quite serious." I said. Quinn looked at him somberly.  
  
The laughter died. So did the grin on Remmy's face.  
  
"You're joking," He said. "Q-Ball, tell me he's just joking."  
  
"Sorry," Quinn replied. "But he isn't."  
  
"Oh, my God." Maggie sat back in her chair and stared across the restaurant.  
  
That went well, I thought.  
  
I didn't know what else to say. We finished supper in silence. I felt terrible. I'd ruined the whole night for everyone.  
  
I didn't wonder whether this changed their feelings about me, but rather, how much. I tried to squash the remorse by reminding myself that I hadn't done any of this on purpose. It only helped a little.  
  
Afterwards we waited outside for a taxi to pick us up. It was growing late and most of the cars were gone. I noticed an old green van out at the far edge of the parking lot which was sitting there with its lights on.  
  
Some unfortunate employee was probably going to wind up with a dead battery, I mused.  
  
Then the vehicle began to creep forward, and stopped again halfway across the parking lot.  
  
I recognized the dark shape behind the steering wheel.  
  
"Quinn," I yelled. "That's the guy who kidnapped me."  
  
"What?" He turned in surprise.  
  
"Van Helsing," I shouted.  
  
Suddenly the van accelerated, right in our direction. I saw what he intended to do. He was going to run me over even if it meant killing my brother, Maggie, Remmy, and taking out part of the restaurant as well. This guy was definitely nuts.  
  
After that things happened really fast.  
  
If I put some distance between myself and my friends maybe they would be spared. I dodged to the right, and out into the parking lot where I would be the only living target.  
  
The vehicle veered slightly, aiming for me. I guess only two or three seconds passed and then the van was almost on top of me. I jumped and landed crouching, on the hood. I slammed both fists against the windshield as hard as I could and the safety glass buckled, caving in on Van Helsing.  
  
He hadn't expected me to do anything but run. The look on his face was almost comical, but I was in no mood to laugh. This guy didn't care whether he'd put my friends and brother in danger or not. Anger flashed through me again. At that instant all that mattered to me was killing him and erasing the threat.  
  
He had the loaded compass bow on the seat next to him. Van Helsing struggled to point it at me but the broken windshield and the bulk of the weapon prevented him from lifting it up.  
  
The windshield was in my way, too. I hauled the crumpled sheet of glass out of the van and threw it away.  
  
At the same time he managed to get the cross bow up, I came into the cab after him. I seized his wrist to force the weapon away and my other hand went for his throat. I was surprised at how easily he succumbed. Almost as if he had very little physical strength.  
  
The cross bow fired wildly, leaving cracks and a bowed, half-inch hole in the passenger side window. At least it wasn't in the direction of Quinn, Maggie and Remmy.  
  
I squeezed my fingers into the flesh of Van Helsing's neck. Staring at me in stark terror, he began to choke.  
  
During the struggle both of us forgot the van was still accelerating. It crashed into something solid and stopped abruptly. The impact threw me at least ten feet away, and onto the asphalt.  
  
I sat up slowly, feeling scraped up and bruised all over. But at least I wasn't badly hurt. Quinn and the others were running toward me.  
  
"Colin," My brother shouted. "Are you all right?"  
  
"...I think so," I answered.  
  
Pain stabbed through left my upper arm. My shoulder was out of joint. At least it wasn't broken. I rotated my shoulder cautiously and felt it pop back into place.  
  
I looked around and saw that what stopped the van was a long, three-foot- high cement planter which extended off to one side of the restaurant. Several yards away from me Van Helsing's body lay in an unconscious heap.  
  
He appeared to be alive but in pretty bad shape. Some of the restaurant employees and other patrons had heard the crash and were coming out to investigate. We decided to get out of there, and let them take care of the mess. No one tried to stop us.  
  
I decided not to tell anyone that I intended to kill Van Helsing. I was struggling with guilt over the promise I made to Quinn. Granted, the bounty hunter would have killed me first, without a second thought. But the fact remained that I had again failed to control myself.  
  
I felt I'd let my brother down.  
  
We walked up the street to a fishing pier where there was another telephone. Once the shock of Van Helsing's attempt wore off, Quinn became really excited about what he had seen me do. His eyes were shining. He was bouncing around and hollering at the others, "You see that, guys? Did you see that? I absolutely can't believe you did that, bro. Was that awesome, or what?"  
  
I was finding it kind of hard to believe, myself.  
  
"WOO," Quinn shouted.  
  
Maggie and Remmy were laughing. It was hard to keep from smiling.  
  
Suddenly I thought of the medicine bottle and syringe in my pocket. I dug frantically, and let out a big sigh of relief when I saw my bottle was intact and the needle had only lost its protective cap further down in the pocket.  
  
"Are they okay?" Maggie peered into my open hand.  
  
"Yeah," I breathed.  
  
"Man," Rembrandt said. "This has been one hell of a night."  
  
"Let's just call another taxi and get back to the motel before we create any more newspaper headlines." I suggested, wearily, and put the medicine back in my pants.  
  
I slept hard that night, and didn't wake up until Quinn shook my shoulder the following afternoon. "Hey, are you planning to sleep all day?"  
  
"Yes. Leave me alone," I grumbled, and pulled the covers up over my head to shut him out.  
  
"Okay," He said. "We're going to the movies. Seeya."  
  
I went back to sleep. I woke up again a while later. They weren't back yet. I pulled my pants on over my boxers, and picked up the TV remote. I flipped through the channels for a few minutes, and found a show about this world's history of military technology. It was sort of interesting.  
  
That program ended and I searched until I came across a western starring John Wayne. I remembered seeing his alternates in films on other worlds.  
  
It was kind of nice not having to ask anyone if it was okay what I put on the TV. Maggie and Remmy didn't usually care and would let me choose most of the time, but lately Quinn had started to groan whenever he heard the galloping of horses' hooves and single-shot rifles firing.  
  
I secretly thought it was funny, so even though I really did like westerns, I often put them on just to drive him more and more nuts.  
  
They arrived back at the room when the movie was almost over. I heard the lock turn, the door opened and then a barely audible sound of disgust.  
  
"Hey, guys." I said cheerfully, and upped the volume on the TV to irritate him further. "How was the movie? Which one did you go see?"  
  
"The Valedictorian Papers," Maggie said. "After the first five minutes I was bored out of my skull."  
  
"Hey, I thought it was good," Quinn protested. He turned to look at Rembrandt, who was yawning. "Didn't you?"  
  
"...uh...sure, Q-ball." Remmy said.  
  
"So what's for dinner tonight?" I asked.  
  
"Spaghetti." Quinn answered.  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"I don't know," Maggie glanced Rembrandt. "What do you think, Remmy?"  
  
"Guess I could go for a piping hot cheesesteak sandwich."  
  
"You think that sub place sells them?" She asked. She was referring to a Blintzy's deli which was two blocks over.  
  
"Girl, if they don't then this world just plain ain't civilized." He joked.  
  
"That sounds awful," I grimaced, picturing a sandwich with a slab of cheese as big and thick as a steak.  
  
All three of them looked at me.  
  
"Colin...," My brother said resignedly.  
  
"What."  
  
"Oh...never mind."  
  
Things hadn't changed that much.  
  
I turned back to the TV, and watched the rest of my movie. Later we walked over to the deli. They didn't have cheesesteak sandwiches. So Remmy ordered a triple cold-cut instead. I decided to try the honey mustard turkey baguette, with potato chips.  
  
The rest of the night was uneventful. I took my shot while Quinn watched, so he would also be familiar with how to administer it for me in case of an emergency.  
  
The next day the medical suppliers phoned to tell me my bracelet was ready. All four of us went down to pick it up. It didn't cost me a cent. Again, the indigent medical services took care of my needs.  
  
I muttered to Quinn that I wished everything could be that easy on all the worlds we slid to. He agreed wholeheartedly with me.  
  
I asked the clerk what this area offered in the way of entertainment.  
  
"Well, there's Castleland Mini-Golf."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Mini-golf." He repeated, giving me an odd look.  
  
My brother jumped in to rescue me. "That sounds good. Where's it located?"  
  
"I don't know the address, except that it's on Baseline. It's not far. You want to see a phone book?"  
  
"Sure. Thanks."  
  
We went over to Castleland. It turned out to be some sort of an amusement center. There were no rides. The main attraction was a small course where you had to knock a ball through a smiling jester's mouth with a club in order to win. There were also gaming machines, pool tables, and a snack bar.  
  
"Hurry up," I said to Quinn. "You're taking too long."  
  
He was bent over lining up the ball with a flag. As I spoke he swung his club. The ball hurtled past the hole.  
  
"Thanks for making me miss, Colin." He growled.  
  
"I did not. You're just a lousy shot."  
  
"Guys...," Maggie groaned.  
  
"You did that on purpose."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too." Quinn squared his shoulders.  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Yo...both of you guys just chill out," Remmy raised his voice.  
  
I forced the rising anger down. "Your turn," I said to Maggie.  
  
Maybe it was beginner's luck, but in the end I won the game. I felt a headache coming on. It was a sunnier, warmer day and the skin on my arms and face began to burn very quickly. "Let's go inside and get a beer," I said. "I need to cool off."  
  
"Yeah. You're getting a little red there." Maggie peered up at me.  
  
Remmy and my brother played pool with some of the locals while we watched from the sideline and I drank my beer. The headache grew worse. "You don't have any aspirin, do you?" I asked Maggie.  
  
"No," She said. "You want me to go ask at the snack bar if they have some?"  
  
"Yes, thank you," I replied. "Ever since I got out of the hospital, I can't take the sun and the heat anymore."  
  
They didn't sell any aspirin, but one of the employees there kept a personal supply and shared out a couple. She brought them back to me. I downed them with the last of my beer.  
  
Before long I began to feel a little better. Quinn won the last game he played and his mood had improved. He slid his pool cue back into the rack and came over to sit down. "We should pick up some sunscreen," He said. "You're starting to look like a lobster."  
  
Before I could reply he clapped one hand across his forehead. "Oh, God, I am so stupid. Colin, I'm sorry. I didn't think. Are you feeling all right? Do you want to get out of here and go back to the motel?"  
  
"No, it's okay," I said. "I'm fine. Just no more outdoor activities, that's all."  
  
I had been thinking about this most of the day. "Quinn, I want to go back and check that church out," I said.  
  
"Why?" My brother asked. "Our slide's tomorrow. Why not just leave things alone?"  
  
"I'll go by myself if I have to."  
  
He sighed. "Fine. I'll come with you. But on one condition."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"If anyone's there, we don't go in. There's no point in stirring up trouble."  
  
"All right, fair enough." I said.  
  
That evening we returned to the church. It was dark, and there were no cars around.  
  
I tried one of the double doors. It was locked.  
  
"Give me a second." Quinn told me. He pulled his set of small watchmaker's tools from his pocket and knelt down in front of the lock.  
  
A few moments later, we were inside. The interior of the church was dark as well. My eyes adjusted much more quickly, and I started up the central aisleway.  
  
At the back of the church was a podium, and behind that on the wall was a mural depicting a human sacrifice, with celestial rays coming down from Heaven and alighting the victim's body with fire.  
  
I looked closer, and saw that the victim's screaming mouth was fanged. Like mine, but maybe the teeth were a little longer.  
  
Everything about Van Helsing was clear to me now. He had been contracted by this particular religious sect, for the purpose of hunting me down, and others like me. By killing us they believed they were ridding the world of Satan's emissaries.  
  
Quinn came up behind me. "What's that?"  
  
I glanced over, and saw he was talking about a table which was on a raised dais, off to one side of the podium. We walked over to take a closer look. It wasn't just an ordinary table. It was made of stainless steel, like an autopsy table. All four corners of it were outfitted with heavy, short chains, and thick steel manacles.  
  
I looked down at it, wondering how many lives had been lost on this thing.  
  
"You satisfied?" Quinn asked.  
  
"Yeah. I've seen enough," I said. "Let's go."  
  
We started back down the aisleway, when we heard a car pull up outside the open front door. Quinn grabbed my shoulder and we ran toward the back of the church, looking for a rear exit.  
  
We hurried through a kitchen area, and found another door. It was also locked, with the same kind of keylock as the front doors. We didn't have time to fiddle with it. "Stand back," I yelled at Quinn.  
  
As he stepped back I sent my boot crashing through the wood. The door splintered apart, some of it swinging back in toward us on the hinges. I used my fists to break the rest of it up. We fled down the back steps, kicking the pieces of wood aside, and into the darkness.  
  
We hurried back to the motel. Maggie and Remmy were waiting for us.  
  
"So," She said. "What'd you find out?"  
  
"More than I really wanted to," I answered, truthfully.  
  
The following morning we all walked around to the back of the motel. There was nothing but a dumpster, and litter along the edge of the building.  
  
I for one was glad to leave this world behind, with its apparently medieval religious views. I wondered whether the others felt the same way. I watched as Quinn counted down, "...three...two...one." He activated the timer.  
  
And we were on our way to the next adventure. 


End file.
